Page 83 of A Well-Trained Lady

I met Lord Thorton’s gaze, refusing to let my thoughts drift to Augustus. Lord Thorton was not only my last viable option, but a man comparable to myself. I could no longer hope for more. And though I wished to reason with him, to tell him that we would both be happier if we did not allow emotion to guide us in our union, I would not extinguish the inkling of hope I glimpsed in him. If an empty hope is what it took to obtain his offer, so be it. Better his eventual dissatisfaction than Augustus’s. For, from what I had heard of Lord Thorton’s reputation, he would not hesitate to find delight elsewhere once he tired of me, where Augustus would remain loyal in his misery. “I believe I could agree to that.”

* * *

I glanced around the elaborate, mahogany furnishings of the Rose Room. The bed was nearly double the size of the one at Fairhaven, with large posts on the corners that seemed to reach up to the ceiling. The walls were a deep shade of burgundy, and the golden framed portraits commanded the eye. Even the chaise lounge by the fireplace was exquisite, with its scarlet, striped fabric and golden piping. It was all so elegant, yet it felt somehow … inhospitable.

Leah moved to my side. “Do you need anything else, miss?”

“No.” I glanced at my readied reflection, attempting to muster some sort of pleasure at how handsome I had been made to look. Yet the image I saw was Augustus’s expression when he’d looked at me that first night at Fairhaven when I’d worn this very gown. I shook the thought from my mind. Augustus was far better off without me.

A sharp knock echoed through the room, and Leah sent me an uneasy glance.

“Perhaps it is Lady Beatrice.” My false hope was evident in my tone.

Leah nodded and moved to the door, opening it just enough to see out.

Mother stepped through so swiftly that Leah was forced to take a step back to prevent the door from hitting her.

“Arabella, I must speak with you.”

My eyes flickered to Leah. Though I dreaded being left alone with Mother, I could not allow Leah to be caught in the crossfire again. “Leah, will you go see Lady Beatrice’s maid about the recipe we were just discussing? The rose lip salve?”

Leah bobbed her head at my hastily created excuse, curtsied, and left.

I focused on the full-length mirror, attempting to convey a sense of composure despite my racing heart and damp palms beneath my gloves. “What is it you wish to speak to me about?”

“Much.” She paused. “I have finally received a letter from your father.”

My chest constricted, and though I tried to remain unaffected, I could not stop myself from glancing at her reflection.

“Ah. Did you think I had forgiven you your deceit?” Mother stepped behind me, focusing on our reflection. She placed her hands on both of my shoulders, leaning in close to one ear. “I have not.”

I swallowed, searching for the courage to tell her I had my own inquiry to make as to her threatening Ruth. But the courage did not come.

“And though I do enjoy watching you squirm under the weight of your own conscience, I fear there is no time before dinner for your confession.” Mother dropped her hands. “Instead I have come to ask why you have not yet received Lord Thorton’s offer?”

I lifted my chin, unwilling to tell her of my half-hearted attempts to let down my guard so Lord Thorton could come to know me. “We have only been at Branbury a week.”

“And yet you have known him longer than most men who have offered for you.”

“Lord Thorton does not seem as eager as other men to enter matrimony, but I assure you I am doing everything you taught me to do in order to secure him.”

“Then why is there talk below stairs that leaves me questioning how thorough a job you’re doing? For as dense as gentlemen are, even they can recognize when a lady’s thoughts and affections are otherwise engaged.”

The air felt thick as I drew in a breath. “There is talk of such things amongst the servants?”

“Besides you and me, there were only three other people who witnessed your folly: Lady Thorton, Lord Thorton, and your maid.”

“Leah would not spread such a tale.”

Mother narrowed her eyes, as though she could sense my lapse in not keeping a necessary detachment toward my servant. “I do not believe it was your maid, as I made it quite clear what the consequence would be if she betrayed me again. And Lady Thorton, thank heavens, has seemingly decided to overlook your recklessness and continues to hope for a forthcoming engagement. Which leaves us …?” Her voice trailed off expectantly.

“Lord Thorton,” I whispered.

“Precisely. His concerns were likely shared with his valet who proceeded to share it with the rest of the servants. Vile creatures with their need for gossip.”

“One mention of a concern does not mean he has lost interest, Mother.”

Mother clasped my upper arms, the tips of her fingers digging into the delicate skin beneath. “Interest gets us nowhere, Arabella. You must convince him of your devotion, for I am not certain how well I will bear another of your disappointments.”